


Halfway to Heaven

by freetobeyouandme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Accidents, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:15:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4428029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freetobeyouandme/pseuds/freetobeyouandme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Dean has too much to drink and ends up upside down in a ditch, and a certain angel comes to the rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halfway to Heaven

"When you see life flash before your eyes/ the good, the bad, the wrong, the right..." 

Dean was hammered, and he knew it.   
He had stumbled into the dingy bar already three drinks in, wanting only to forget about everything that had plagued his mind in the past few weeks--to forget about the guilt and the pain that he lived with day in and day out and the sadness that weighed on his shoulders relentlessly.   
He needed to get drunk.   
Now he wasn't aware of how much time had passed since he arrived, only that the world was going fuzzy around him. Dean pounded back another shot of something dark and slammed it down on the bar top. Everything was muffled. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Dean rubbed his hands down his face and sighed, dully realizing that he should get home before Sammy started worrying. He told his younger brother that he was going out for a drive, but that was--Dean squinted to get a glimpse of the clock in the corner of the room--seven hours ago. He slid off the ratty leather barstool and stumbled a bit, throwing down a twenty and giving the bartender a hazy nod. He was halfway to the door when the bartender called, "Hey! Hey, buddy!" Dean turned and raised a questioning eyebrow; the guy continued. "You're not driving home, are you?" Dean waved him off dismissively and walked out, the door swinging shut behind him. Of course he was driving. How else did the sonofabitch think he was gonna get home? 

He should have listened.  
He shouldn't have gotten into his car when he couldn't even walk straight.   
These thoughts flew through his mind in the space of time that it took for the impala to swerve off the dirt road. Dean had time for a quick intake of breath before he lost control completely; everything turned upside down and the car hit an oak tree with a sickening crunch. Dean lurched forward and the seatbelt yanked him back; a white-hot pain flooded from the base of his neck and raced down his spine. He opened his mouth to scream but couldn't. All that came out was a choked gasp. His neck was definitely broken.  
This is it.   
The thought echoed in his aching head.   
After all that's happened...this is going to be how I go? How ironic.   
He couldn't move. Dean was completely pinned in between bent metal and the steering wheel of his beloved Impala. The road he had been driving on was deserted; it might be days until someone found him--cold and very dead. That is, if the engine didn't explode within the next few minutes. If that happened there might not be much of him left to find.   
Oh god, what if Sammy found him?  
What if Cas found him?   
His mind was painfully clear, the possibility of death snapping him into sobriety quickly. In his mind's eye he saw flashes of the angel, flashes of his little brother. People say that when you're near death you see your life flash before your eyes--but all Dean saw was those two.   
Cas and Sammy.   
They were his life, or all that was left of it anyway.   
His angel and his baby brother. 

Back at the bunker, Castiel stiffened in his seat. The invisible cord that connected angles to humanity was tugging and stretching at his heart in the way that it only did when a human was longing for him. There were no words echoing in his head--it wasn't a prayer. It was a clear longing.   
And it felt like Dean Winchester.   
Leaping to his feet, Cas called Sam into the room. At his worried but hopeful look, Cas said: "It's Dean. He's alive, but he's in trouble." Before Sam had time to respond Cas disappeared in a flutter of wings. 

Dean blacked out a few times; seconds could have passed or days could have--he had no idea. All he knew was pain and dull numbness. There was something terrifying about such a human death, something that was worse than getting killed by a vamp or a demon.   
Something that felt useless.   
Then suddenly, his driver's side window was shattered and gentle hands were frantically feeling for the clip of his seatbelt. Fuzzily, he heard Cas' voice coming from outside the car.   
"Dean? Dean! Oh my god." Cas' voice was muffled in Dean's head, but a wave of relief washed over him. Cas was here. Everything was going to be fine.   
Dean blacked out. 

Castiel bent the metal of the car back into position so that he could get Dean, who had now gone limp against the steering wheel. He dropped to his knees and carefully pulled Dean out of the car and into his lap, taking extra care not to move his neck-- it was most likely fractured. He healed him quickly, not letting himself think what would happen if it was too late. His heart hammered in his chest. He's not going to die. Dean Winchester doesn't die.   
But as Dean continued to lie still, Cas began to worry. "Dean," he muttered, taking his face between his hands and shaking lightly. "Dean!" He yelled, and Dean woke with a gasp, automatically clutching Cas as he came back to reality. He met Cas' eyes, gazing at him in a wondering sort of way.   
"How.." He coughed, and Cas adjusted him so he was sitting up but still in the circle of his arms, "How did you find me?" He didn't seem eager to move away from Cas, and Cas didn't seem to want him to. He smiled slightly, gently pushing Dean's hair back from his forehead with the flat of his hand and letting his thumb trail consolingly down the side of his face. Dean leaned into the touch in a way he never would admit to, just like he never would admit how comforting it was.   
"It's not important." He whispered. Castiel didn't want to make Dean uncomfortable with the actual explanation--that he had found Dean through a desperate longing that was somehow stronger than the ones he felt from other despairing humans.   
Dean nodded and let his eyelids fall shut, suddenly exhausted from all that had happened.   
"Cas..." He seemed to want to explain himself, but Castiel stopped him with a shake of his head.   
"We'll talk about it later. Right now you need to rest. I'll get you home, okay?"   
A single thought rested in Dean's mind, one that he wouldn't recall later.   
I already am home.


End file.
